


Let's Think of Something Better

by orphan_account



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, E-mail, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Gay Rights, Happy Ending, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), LGBTQ Themes, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Married Characters, Married Life, Multi, Oliver is married to Micol, Past, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Psychological Trauma, Reminiscing, US Legalization of Same-Sex Marriage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21584170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: June 26, 2015. Same-sex marriage is legalized in the United States and this starts a rollercoaster of emotions for Oliver. He decides to email Elio, knowing it's probably not the best thing to do, but he doesn't know who else to turn to.He didn't expect Elio to write back.
Relationships: Elio Perlman/Original Male Character, Oliver/Elio Perlman, Oliver/Micol
Comments: 77
Kudos: 129





	1. June 26, 2015

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the movie yesterday and was blown away. I ordered the books right after, but haven't read them yet. So this is entirely based on the movies. (Well, almost. I did search for the name of Oliver's wife as written in 'Find Me'). The chapters aren't very long, some of them are pretty short actually. I usually tend to write longer chapters, but for this particular theme I can't figure out how to make that work. I guess a lot of the themes are up for discussion and interpretation, just like the movie. Feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments! Title of my work is from the lyrics of 'Forest' by Twenty One Pilots.

Oliver’s hands are shaking as he turns up the volume of the TV. Micol, who had been very caught up in reading the newest Stephen King book, looks up at him to ask him what’s going. The header on the screen catches her attention first, and she stills, lowering her book into her lap. Oliver puts the remote down and bites down on his lip harshly. He isn’t dreaming. It’s real. _It's happening._

_“…historic Supreme Court Decision legalizing same-sex marriage across the land-“_

Everything is a mess after that. His eyes start stinging with tears that he’s been saving for almost all of his life. His heart is pounding in his chest. A confused, goofy smile appears on his lips. “Micol…” he whispers so quietly that he’s not sure if she’s caught it. She has. She quickly puts her book away and pulls him into a tight hug. He clutches onto her and spills his tears into the teal cardigan that smells like the flowery apple blossom perfume he’s learned to recognize as home. He’s not entirely sure why he’s crying. Maybe it’s the recognition he’s never had on such a big scale before. Perhaps it’s the intense joy of knowing how many people’s lives will change because of this. Maybe it’s the hurt he’s carried with him for all those years, the sting of jealousy towards the younger generations that didn't leave the love of their life behind in 1983. It’s most likely all of it, and he’s shocked to find out that he’s been carrying this with him so deeply hidden he’d forgotten all about his sorrow.

“Oliver, I…” Micol starts hesitantly slides her fingers through his hair. She knows. She’s always known. “I don’t know what to say, honey… Are you alright?” Oliver looks up at her to find her eyes glimmering with tears as well.

“I can’t believe they’re finally doing this,” he chokes out. “I’m feeling so many things at once.

She slides her fingers through his hair gently, comforting him. “I know honey. I know.”


	2. E-mail #1: To Elio on June 26, 2015

> Dear Elio,
> 
> I shouldn’t be writing to you. We both know that. It’s just that I don’t think there’s anyone else I could turn to but you, so please forgive me for this. I’m sure you’ve already heard the news – the Internet is so fast these days – but the United States have legalized same-sex marriage. You know I rarely cry. I don’t even think you’ve seen me cry at all. But today when I saw the news I did. I cried for all the people whose lives will be different from now on. For all the young people that will grow up in a society where they will be able to be with the person they want to be with. Of course, I know that legalizing this will not the other issues go away, but it’s most certainly a step in the right direction.
> 
> But I also cried about us. About knowing that we haven’t had the same luck. The same chances. I am wondering how things would have turned out if we'd grew up in a different time or place. I’m okay with the life I’m living now, don’t get me wrong, but there’s not a single day where I don’t regret not having chosen to stay with you. Today, when I saw the news, I imagined what it would’ve felt like putting a ring on _your_ finger. What it would’ve felt like waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life. The scariest part is that I could imagine this very well. Almost as if it was my actual reality.
> 
> Elio, I sincerely hope you have found the love you so very much deserve. I hope you’ll be able to wake up next to that man for the rest of your life. He’s lucky. Cherish him. Love him. And I hope that I’ll be a little memory of the past, indicating you’ve been able to move on.
> 
> I'm not sure what I want to say with this e-mail. Not sure what I hope to get back from you. Maybe it would be better if you changed your e-mail address so you never get to see this. Maybe I'm just hoping to see your name appear in my notifications, to feel that one spark of our youthful love once again.
> 
> I should stop writing. I'm getting drunk, and I'm scared of the things my mind might spill.
> 
> \- Oliver


	3. E-mail #2: To Oliver on June 30, 2015

A few days have passed since Oliver sent the e-mail to Elio and he's starting to doubt if he should have done it at all. Last night when he checked there still hadn't been a reply. His heart is hammering in his chest as he finds his way back to his inbox. He waits for the page to load and swallows hard when he sees there's a new e-mail. An e-mail from Elio.

> Hi Oliver,
> 
> It’s so good to hear from you. I’m sorry that my reply took so long. I didn’t expect your message at all. I wanted to take my time to give you the response you deserve instead of a quickly written answer. I needed some time to think about the things you wrote.
> 
> The news about the legalization did indeed reach me, and it makes me very happy. Times are finally changing, as they should. It might sound strange, but I’m glad you cried. Crying is good, especially when it’s about the things that truly matter. And we both know how much this matters. It’s good to let all of that out. I do remember you telling me that your parents weren’t very supportive, how did they respond to this change? Have you ever told them about yourself?

Oliver can't help the slight smile that spreads on his face. Elio remembers, even though Oliver has only stated that once.

> I’ll be honest with you, Oliver. I don’t know what to write back. What you wrote to me hurt me because I can relate to it so much. I miss you — every single day. But we were so young. Things weren’t like they are now. We thought we made the right decision. Sometimes I do like to think that there’s another universe where we made a different choice, and I like to think about what that life would have looked like.

His sight is getting hazy as the tears fill his eyes once again. Elio truly has a way with words. Then it hits him very clearly. Elio feels the same way. He still thinks about him. Still wonders what they could have been.

> And sometimes, I know we did make that decision in our hearts. We might not be together physically, but you’ve always been my driving force. So it almost feels like infidelity when I say that I do live together with another man now. His name is Jean; I met him in Montpellier a few years back. You would be surprised how similar his youth has been to ours. Maybe that’s why I feel connected to him. I can’t say that we’re in love, but we do love each other. Does that sound sensible? I guess I’m too old to search for that youthful spark you’re talking about. I’m happy with the way things are right now. It’s steady.
> 
> I told Jean that you sent me an e-mail. I didn’t want this to be a secret. I don’t want you to be a secret. Not anymore. Jean is the one that urged me to write back, even though I couldn’t think clearly about all of this yet. You would like him, I guess. I don’t know what we are, Oliver. I don’t know what I want us to be. But I’m thrilled that you reached out to me. It feels nice.
> 
> How are Micol and the children? And please don’t get yourself too drunk, okay? You don’t deserve that.
> 
> Love, Elio.

Oliver sits there for a little while as he lets everything sink in. He feels almost giddy in a certain way. He almost feels like the 24-year-old man he'd been when he first met Elio. Joyful. Scared. Insecure. _In love._

Maybe, he did make a mistake by reaching out. He knows himself too well. Knows he won't be able to stop now that he's finally found the spark he was so desperately hoping to find. He should talk to Micol. Elio was right. They no longer should be each other's dirty little secret. 


	4. July 1st, 2015

Oliver is struggling to grade his students’ essays. Struggling, because after reading even the first section, he has no clue what’s written. Oliver hasn’t been this stressed out in a long time. He feels agitated and anxious _over an e-mail_. God. He’s pathetic. He’s planning on sitting down with Micol tonight to talk things over. He’s afraid he won’t be able to do it. He’s terrified she might take it the in the wrong way. Which he would very much understand. These are the days where he curses whoever is up there for making him anything but straight.

He takes a deep breath, puts his phone down on the table and starts typing out a message. He needs to hold himself accountable tonight. He and Micol have only survived together for so long because they’ve always been open and truthful. He can’t mess up that vast safe space by keeping something as big as this a secret.

> Hey sweetheart. There’s something I would like to talk about with you tonight? Do you have time? X

\--

It’s a very uncomfortable dinner. The soft clanking noise of cutlery on their plates as they eat their meal in silence. It would either be too much of a blatant attempt to make small talk or a topic you can’t discuss while eating. In the end, it’s Micol who puts her fork down and straight-up asks him what’s going on in his head. Oliver stills his movements and ignores the dread that builds in his chest.

“A few days ago, I got a little drunk…”

“I remember.”

“I… I sent an e-mail to Elio.”

Silence. That damned quiet atmosphere that made you feel chilly to your very core without the temperature allowing that to be the case. Micol bites her lips – a tick she has when she gets nervous – and manages to send him a sad smile.

“What did you write?”

“That the legalization of same-sex marriage made me realize how much I missed him. I… If you want to read it, I can show it to you later?” He curses at himself mentally because this is not at all how he planned to tell her.

“Oh, Oliver… I…” she sighs and gets up to walk over to him. She stands behind him, her hands finding their way around his body to secure him in her embrace. “Listen to me carefully,” she whispers. “What you write to Elio is your business. I’m flattered that you’re offering me to read it, but you don’t have to. Though, I do want you to spill whatever is going on in that head of yours.” Oliver reaches up to cup her arms with his hands, and he presses himself into her hug.

“I’m so confused. I don’t want to feel this way. I love you, Micol. I love you so much. I just… I hate myself for the way he still makes me feel. He wrote me back, you know? He has someone else too but admitted to still missing me as well, and my heart aches so much just thinking about that.” He knows he’s rambling, but he can’t help himself. An unexpected sob rises in his chest, and he holds Micol’s arms more firmly.

“Oliver… I love you too, and you know just how much.” She lifts his chin to make him look up at her. “I’ve known what I was in for since before I even married you. You can’t help your feelings. You can’t help that you’re experiencing these feelings towards him. The fact that you’re willing to talk about it means the world to me. I mean, I will be honest here as well. Of course, I feel a little bit jealous of this Elio-guy I’ve never even met. But do you remember the promise we made to each other during our honeymoon?”

_We will promise we will not hold each other back in life. We can do the things we want to, as long as we are truthful to each other and set some ground rules first._

“Yeah-“ he chokes out. “I do.”

“Why do you think I made you promise that?”

Oliver’s eyes widen slightly as the realization dawns upon him. Up until this time he figured she might have wanted that promise for herself – for what, he hadn’t known. But now he understood. “Shit,” he mutters. He looks up at her in disbelief. “How did you…”

“Oliver sweetheart, I knew that one day you’d need to feel the touch of a male body again. I’m not under the illusion that it feels the same as I do. I wanted you to know that you could, but you never asked. Now I know why. You didn’t get it.”

Oliver slowly detangles himself from her embrace and pulls her into his lap, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “I don’t deserve you.” Micol kisses the top of his head and shakes her head gently. “You do. I know many people thought different back in the day, but you’re not sick. You can’t help your feelings. It’s not easy for you either. Your heart is too big, Oliver. I know you love me to the full extent, but your heart still has more than enough space left for Elio.” She pauses for a bit, thinking of how to put her thoughts into words. Her fingers lingering on his back, tracing small circles exactly the way he loves to be touched.

“I don’t know what you want with Elio, or if he wants the same thing in return. But think about the promise. As long as you stay truthful and we make rules… Please, darling. Don’t hurt yourself any longer.”

He holds her. And holds her. And he cries. Because just like Elio had said in his e-mail, it’s good to cry over things that matter.


	5. E-mail #3: To Elio on July 2, 2015

> Dear Elio,
> 
> I’m so glad that you chose to respond to my e-mail. I want to apologize for bringing everything up again and hurting you by doing so. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and upsetting you has never been my intention. Jean sounds like a good man for you. Where do you live with him? Europe? The States? I guess I’ve lost track of you along the way.
> 
> Micol and the children are doing very well. Actually, my daughter – Morgan – is expecting her first child in two months from now. I’m going to be a grandpa. Can you imagine? I don’t know how I got this old this fast. It sounds like I should be retired already. I’m happy this is not the case yet; I still like my job too much to give up on it already.
> 
> Last night I sat down with Micol and told her that I e-mailed you. She was surprisingly supportive. Even more so, all these years she’s been wondering when I would bring you up again. She’s told me that – if things turn to a particular direction – she’d be more than willing to let me explore things with you (of course with some ground rules, but that’s something that’d be way too early to discuss now).
> 
> I’d be delusional if I’d think this means you’ll run back to me. Which I why I want to ask you something. You don’t have to answer right away, please, take your time to think about it. Do you think you’d want to see me again? In person? Would you just want to catch up, or would you be open to try and be more? Would Jean approve? If you don’t want to see me again… Will you please let me know as well? I would never hold it against you.
> 
> \- Oliver

Oliver clicks the 'send' button and takes a deep breath to ground himself. There, he did it. He hopes Elio won't think he's too blunt about this. He probably is, but Oliver simply can't stand not knowing whether this might turn into something yes or no. If Elio tells him 'no thank you, I'd rather not have you contact me again' he would at least know. Now he knows nothing. It's eating him alive. He returns to the task he should've been working on yesterday, grading the essays. This time he gets through without too much trouble. Last time Elio took around five days to respond. Oliver had to be patient.


	6. E-mail #4: To Oliver on July 5, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, it's overwhelming really! I didn't expect this fandom to be so active aaaah. I'll be going to Sweden for six weeks as of this Wednesday, I will try my best to upload as often as I can, but I'm not sure how often that will be. <3 <3

Elio. Elio. Elio.

Oliver stares at himself in the mirror and sighs. Last night he’d gotten drunk again. His neighbors always hosted the biggest Fourth of July party in town and even though he hadn’t been sure he should go this year, Micol had dragged him along. She said it’d be a good distraction from the confusion that kept fucking with his head over and over again. She’d been right. It was nice to be out there. Talking to the same people, in the same room, with the same French red wine they drank every year. It’d been a Medoc from 2006, one of its finest years. The party grounded him.

He drank too much, though. The headache he was enduring now reminded him that his younger days were long gone.

“Oliver, honey, should I make breakfast for you as well?” Micol asks as she appears in the doorframe. He shakes his head. “No, I think I’ll pass. Still nauseous from last night.”

“You enjoyed yourself?”

“I did. It was nice.”

“Good. I’ll see you downstairs?”

“Yeah.”

Micol sends him a sweet smile before closing the bathroom door. Her footsteps disappearing in the distance. His eyes find the mirror again, taking himself in. Elio. Elio. Elio. He hasn’t heard back from him. He hadn’t expected a reply so soon. That didn’t mean he wasn’t checking his e-mail every single hour, maybe even more. Even some of his students had come up to him to ask him if he was okay. Apparently, the dark circles under his eyes had betrayed him.

He slowly tears his gaze away from his reflection and walks back to their bedroom to get dressed. He chooses a simple sage-green sweater and a pair of black shorts. He was glad today was a Sunday, so he wouldn’t have to drag his tired ass to work. He could take it easy. All of the students’ essays have been graded, and he’d sent his feedback back to them. Micol was meeting her friends today, so he’d have the entire house to himself. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing, yes or no. Micol and he had always liked having a few hours of ‘me-time’ as they called that nowadays. But being alone meant having thoughts. Which is the exact thing he wouldn’t mind not having right now.

He made his way downstairs as well and tried to ignore the churning of his stomach when the smell of scrambled eggs filled his nostrils. He walked up behind Micol and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, kissing the back of her head gently. Ever since his confession, he’s been trying very hard to show Micol how much he loves her still. He knows what she said, but he wants to make sure she really feels his love. Because that’s the confusing part. He longs for Elio. But the thought of losing Micol scares him to his very core. If he could have both of them… The thought alone makes his chest swell with joy and panic at the same time.

“You’re going to be okay today, Ol?”

“I hope so,” he whispers back. Micol scrapes the eggs out of the frying pan onto her plate and turns off the stove. She manages to turn around in his embrace and looks up at him. “Call me if you need me. Try and distract yourself, yeah? Don’t get yourself another panic attack.” She says, referring to the one he had yesterday morning. “But if you do, reach out, okay?”

“I will.”

She cups his cheeks, kisses him and then turns around again to finish preparing her breakfast. An hour later, she’s all ready to go – after he helped her find her sunglasses. He doesn’t know how she does it, but she never knows where they are. Now it’s on her head, giving her a lovely summer vibe he loves looking at. “I love you, Ol, see you tonight!”

“Love you too!” he says with his voice slightly raised to make sure she hears him as she walks out the front door. The door falls into its’ lock, and the silence washes over him. He groans. Time to recheck his e-mail, then. He walks upstairs and sits down at his desk, turning on his laptop and waits. The anxiety is building in his chest again.

There’s an e-mail. From Elio. He just sent it ten minutes ago. Oliver’s hands are shaking as he brings the cursor down and clicks.

> Dear Oliver.
> 
> Call me on this number. I want to hear your voice.
> 
> Elio.

Oliver is frozen in place. He stares at the number in the e-mail. It’s definitely a US number. Oh Gosh. Elio is in The States. He quickly searches the area code. _Connecticut._ Oliver feels like he can’t breathe. Elio isn’t just in The States. He’s _close._

Fuck.


	7. The Phone Call: July 5, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The CMBYN book is giving me so much feels omg, have you all read it?)

Oliver stares at the number in his phone once more. These digits, this combination… These will lead him to his long lost lover. It’s almost like a secret code, one he’s been trying to crack for the past few days. All he has to do is press that little button at the top of the screen. Just one little tap and he’ll be able to hear Elio’s voice. Elio had given him this number, and yet Oliver’s mind was clouded with doubt. What if Elio is going to tell him off? What if he is still angry at him for marrying Micol? So many what-ifs.

At the same time, this feels like the only chance to ever make this right. If he’d ignore Elio’s plea to call him now, it’d be the last smack in the face for Elio to say goodbye and never wanting to come back to him. He has to take this chance. Even if it won’t work out, he has to do this.

He taps the button, pulls his knees into his chest and waits for the dreaded dial tone to stop. Which doesn’t take long at all. _Tuuuuuuuu, tuuuuuuuu, tuu-_

“Hi, this is Elio Perlman speaking.”

“Elio.”

Silence.

“Oliver? Is that you?”

Oliver swallows hard, tears stinging in his eyes. A faint smile appears on his lips. He’d been afraid he might no longer recognize this voice, but it’s still so familiar that it stirs something deep inside him.

“Yeah, I… It’s me.”

He hears the shaky exhale at the other side of the line. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call.” Elio pauses. “But I’m so happy you did. Do you have a minute? Let me walk upstairs.”

“Of course.”

Oliver can hear soft murmuring in the background, a deep baritone voice telling Elio good luck. That must be Jean. A pang of guilt unfolds in his chest. He feels ashamed of what he’s doing. Like a cheater. A homewrecker. Yet, Micol and Jean both approve of them calling at least. They’re not doing anything wrong, technically speaking. They haven’t done anything in secret. No affairs. No kissing. No fucking. He’s still a good husband. But he does understand now that infidelity is not a physical act. It’s something that lives within you. Even though Micol approves of this, he can’t keep the voice in his head to stay quiet. Can’t shake the feeling that he’s doing something terrible and disgusting in the eyes of society. Even though this is nothing more than an action based on love.

Life truly is confusing.

“Hey, I’m back,” Elio speaks softly, and Oliver swears he can hear the smile in his voice. “Hi,” he replies. Elio giggles. “This is awkward, huh?” This makes Oliver smile as well, and the worries settle in the back of his mind for now. “A bit,” he grins.

“I’m sorry that my reply took so long. You said so many things, I tried to write an answer multiple times, but somehow nothing sounded right. I figured it’d be better to speak to you. Hear your voice.”

“Are you happy you made that decision?” Oliver asks, referring to the call. “Yeah. I… Your voice is- I missed you, Oliver. Shit.”

Oliver sucks in a sharp breath at that confession. Elio had already said so in his e-mail, but hearing it is not something he’d been prepared for. This man is messing with his head. His feelings. And he is a bit reluctant to admit that he _likes_ it. It takes him back to that one summer, so many years ago. He can nearly feel Elio splashing water in his face. The soft tickling sensation of his fingers on his cheeks.

“I miss you too.” He sighs. “I’m so sorry. It’s been so many years, and I barely know what to say.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way. It’s so overwhelming.”

“It is.”

Another pause.

“Oliver?”

“Hmmm?”

“We can’t take things too fast. Everything confuses me at this very moment, but I do know that you reaching out to me is something that made me so incredibly happy. We have to talk - a lot. Over the phone, in person… If that’s something you would like. Jean is fine with everything. Like I said in the e-mail, he has a similar story. He told me that if he’d ever get the chance to meet his love again, he’d take it. He wants me to take it as well.”

“He does?”

“He does. Truly. I can’t believe it either. I just feel incredibly lucky that we might have this chance. I don’t want to ruin this.”

“Me neither, Elio…” Oliver whispers. He shares this feeling. The uncertainty of things. The confusion. The longing.

“So… I suggest we meet up. For real. In person. Would that be something you’d want?”

Oliver does. He very much does want that. The thought of seeing Elio in person again ignites a spark in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. Butterflies. Like an obsessed teenager that’s being asked on a date.

“I do. I saw you’re in Connecticut?” Elio laughs. “I am. I’m secretly hoping you’re still somewhere in New England as well?” This time it’s Oliver’s turn to smirk. “I do, actually. Where do you live now?”

“Salisbury.”

“Oh. That’s… Actually pretty close, Elio. I’m in Northfield, Massachusetts. Which is a little over a two-hour drive away.”

“That’s convenient.” Elio chuckles. “Can’t believe we’ve been this close.”

“I know, right? Uhm, so, do you want to see if we can meet up this week?” Oliver asks, hoping he isn't too bold. Too fast. He’s just so excited. “That works for me. Uhm, I’m free Wednesday afternoon?”

“Should I come to your place? Be there at 2 pm?”

“Yeah, 2 pm it is.”

Just like that, it’s become real. A solid thing. It’s no longer a fantasy or a fucked-up imagination in his head. He’s seeing Elio again. Elio, the man that turned his life upside down that one summer. The man that made him realize who and what he was. What he wanted. The man he’s never been able to forget.

“Hey Oliver, I should go… I… I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Me too, Elio. You have no idea.”

“See you, then?”

“See you.”

There’s a soft crackling sound, and then it’s silent. Oliver takes a deep breath and laughs. This is happening. It’s happening.


	8. Salisbury: July 8, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took so long to upload! Sweden is... Not turning out the way it was supposed to be whoops. We were supposed to stay with a Workaway host family to help them out with a renovation for the upcoming five weeks, but... It was bad. The people were friendly, but communication was pretty much impossible, we had to sleep in the cold (heating system failed, windows couldn't shut completely) on a mattress topper. Also, there was no plan for renovating the house. In the end, we figured it'd be best to leave, so we did! We're now in an adorable cabin in Sweden, enjoying ourselves. Our next plan is to make a road trip from Sweden to Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Germany and then back to the Netherlands where we live! I'll try to update as often as possible, but you can imagine travelling doesn't help ;)
> 
> This chapter is a bit short - again - but for plot reasons, I figured it might be important. In the next chapter, they will finally face each other again!
> 
> I hope you're all having a good time! You guys doing anything fun in the holidays?

Wednesday comes too quick for Oliver’s liking. He has no clue if he’s prepared to face Elio again. Everything he feels for that man is founded on the events that happened over just six weeks, nearly thirty years ago. He has no idea if present-Elio is anything like past-Elio. He has no idea how much he has changed over the years. Heck, he doesn’t even know why he reached out to his former lover. He doesn’t understand why his liking for men runs so deep and how it manages to shake him to his very core every single second he lets his guard down. It’s like a shadow that follows him everywhere he goes. As long as he doesn’t think about it, he doesn’t even notice that it’s a part of him. But when he looks at it directly, it nearly consumes him.

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel when he drives into Salisbury. According to his GPS, it’ll take less than five minutes until he arrives. He’s so close. It terrifies him more than he anticipated. From here he could still turn his car around, drive home, tell Micol it was a mistake and that he’ll never look at this side of him again. For thirty years he’s managed to do so, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.

But it’s not what he wants.

He feels like he’s on the brink of a huge change. Feels like this is the only chance he’ll ever get to explore himself and the feelings he kept hidden for so long. That, and yesterday when Micol showed him the rules she’d made for all of this, she told him she’d personally bring him back to Salisbury if he managed to not go through with it. The rules grounded him in a way. Micol had taken a few hours to put the list together and word it in a way she felt comfortable with. When she finished writing it down, she’d given it to him. “Some of the rules might be a bit presumptuous, but I’d rather have them in place from the very beginning onward.” They talked about the first four rules. When Oliver told her how bad he still felt about it, she’d been persistent in adding the fifth rule. He went over the written-down rules so often he has them memorized by now.

_1\. Be honest about your feelings and talk about them to both me and Elio. Of course, details of intimacy are not required to share (unless all parties agree, or when there are medical issues).  
_ _2\. STD test to be done before you have sex with Elio (kissing is okay), then twice a year after that. If the STD test is up to date, sex without a condom is okay.  
_ _3\. I’m your primary partner, Elio will be considered your boyfriend.  
_ _4\. You don’t need to ask me for permission to see him, and there’s no limit to when you can see him, but no sleeping over more than twice a week (unless a situation calls for it, then we can discuss).  
_ _5\. Don’t feel guilty, honey. I’m happy for you._

According to her, the fifth rule is one of the most important ones. Her reasoning behind it that if he couldn’t enjoy himself to the full extent, there was no way it’d be a good time for any of them. He figured she might be right about it. He believed her when she said she truly was okay with it.

He takes the next turn and finds himself in a little street. The houses aren’t too big, but the gardens spacious and well-maintained. He’s nearly there now, a few more homes to drive past. He wonders if Elio is freaking out about this as well. Maybe this whole thing doesn’t mean as much to him. Well, only one way to figure that out. He looks at the house that appears at his left. That must be the one. He parks his car and feels overwhelmed by the sound of nothing as the engine stops making noise.

He doesn’t know where he got the courage to get out of the car, lock it and make his way to the front door. He rings the bell and ignores the churning of his stomach. The first thing he notices is the barking of a dog. It’s a high-pitched bark, so not a very big dog then. He hears some muffled noise inside – a voice trying to hush the dog. “Bean, quiet!” Then, footsteps nearing the door. The dog hadn’t stopped barking, obviously. The door unlocked. This was it.


	9. Salisbury: The First Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya y'all! So, I'm sorry that I've been so inactive! I don't want to elaborate too much on it, but basically the roadtrip we made in the winter didn't allow for much time to write. I had an absolute blast though! We saw Sweden, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland (and from there we only stayed the night in Germany to drive back to the Netherlands).   
> After the roadtrip, I started my new job. Then, obviously covid happened. Wasn't in a great headspace and all I did was write for a different fandom with a good friend of mine.   
> I really don't want to let you guys down, but I truly don't feel this fic anymore (even though I like what it is!). I don't want to leave you with nothing so the next couple chapters will be short and show the slight gist of what I meant to write more extensively. I hope you will understand! I'm aware it's not my best writing and way too short *hides face*  
> Anyway, I want to thank you all so much for reading what I had so far, all the love and support, it's been truly amazing! <3  
> -Kim

When the door finally opens Oliver forgets how to breathe for a good second. Did he ever know how to breathe around Elio? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure about anything. The man in front of him is so utterly stunning that it has Oliver’s heartbeat in shatters. Age has been more than kind to the former lanky boy he met in 1983. Elio’s tanned skin- making him look more European than ever - the dark hair with messy curls that playfully frame his face. The same, intense piercing gaze that feels like it burns right through his soul. It’s him. It’s actually him. Even though he is unrecognizable to the outer eye, every fiber in Oliver’s body knows who is there in front of him.

“Hi,” he breathes and wishes he could take it back. He himself hasn’t changed so much either. He’s still charming, but somewhat awkward still. Elio, however, sends him a most dashing smile.  
“Hi,” he replies - petting the small Pomeranian in his arms. The little dog is wagging its tail and making the most adorable noises to make clear he wants attention from Oliver as well. So Oliver takes a step closer, his hands reaching out for the small creature.   
“May I?” he asks quietly. Elio simply nods, and Oliver’s fingers find their way onto the dog’s soft and smooth fur. He tries to ignore how incredibly close he’s to the other man now. Too close, if it weren’t for the dog. 

“Bean, isn’t it?” he asks in an attempt to keep the not-so-active conversation going. Elio hums in response.  
“Yeah, she’s Jean’s dog, but she’s been here since-” 

Elio stops talking and raises his head up. Oliver presses his lips together. Elio hadn’t wanted to mention that, clearly. Hadn’t wanted to mention Jean yet.  
“It’s okay, I… I know he’s in your life.”  _ Could it be even more awkward?  
_ “I guess, I guess…” Elio replies. Mysterious as always. Oliver thinks quickly. He doesn’t want this to be the sentiment of their first meeting. He wants it to be casual. Fun. Not too intense just yet. Not yet.  
“So, eh,” Oliver clears his throat. “It’s so nice to see you again.” This actually makes Elio smile and he nods happily.   
“Likewise.”

Again, the conversation stops. Oliver feels so lost. He wonders if he’s made a mistake by coming here. Maybe he should just excuse himself, go back to Micol and never think about Elio - or men in general - again.   
“Do you want to come in?”  
“Yes.”


	10. Reliving emotions

“And?” Micol asks quietly. They’re seated at the dinner table and Oliver hasn’t said a word since he came back from Elio. He has no clue where to start. He sighs.   
“I don’t know.”  
“How so?”  
Oliver shrugs and puts his fork down, mindlessly tapping his foot on the floor in an attempt to calm himself down. Seeing Elio had really fucked him up. While the first couple minutes had been awkward, sooner rather than later, it’d been as if they’d never left Italy. Making jokes about some of their old memories. How different times had been back then. While in some way it felt like nothing more than just revisiting an old friend, it also had Oliver’s insides tingle with something he’s not too familiar with. Something he hasn’t felt since he’d been a lovestruck young adult. Maybe… Maybe that came solely from the fact that Oliver had never actively allowed himself to think of men as handsome. Attractive. Likable.   
“I can’t tell yet, I don’t…” his voice trails off and he takes a deep, frustrated breath. Sometimes he wished he wouldn’t feel this way. He wants to be numb. Not feel attracted to anyone at all. 

Micol sends him a sweet smile.  
“Oliver, you can’t know just yet. That’s impossible.” She pauses for a moment. “I’m asking you how it was to see him.”   
“Confusing. Nice… It felt nice to relive that period of my life. I had a good summer.”  
“I bet you did.”  
“I never really told you the full story, did I?”  
Micol shakes her head. Oliver swallows once. He’s ready. Ready to tell her. As confusing as all of this still is, he knows she supports him. That she actually wants to help him with this. He’s never told anyone and the thought that he can finally let it out makes him ache for the relief instantly. So he pushes his plate away and starts. He tells her everything. Every detail he remembers. Not just about Elio. About Chiara, too. The town. The Italian friends he made, and the awesome work he could do with Elio’s father. How sweet and caring they’d all been.

Micol listens. 

And hugs him afterward.

“You’ll figure this out, Oliver. You will. And I’ll be right here.”


	11. Coming home

It’s the summer of 2020. Thirty-seven years since he met Elio. Five years since they reconciled. Oliver stares at the scene playing out in front of him with a smile on his face. Jean is picking a loose leaf from Elio’s curls. Elio laughs, his happiness radiating from him even from underneath his sunglasses. Micol is taking a small nap on their large picnic cloth. They’re at their favorite spot in the forest near Elio’s home. 

No one knows exactly what they’ve got going on. Oliver himself can’t even quite explain it. Micol is still his wife. He loves her, so much. She’s his primary partner, the one he calls his family and lives at home with. Elio is his boyfriend. Casual. Sometimes they meet almost every day in the week, sometimes they don’t see each other for a bit. And it’s nice. Nice like that. Jean is still Elio’s platonic boyfriend too. They care so much for each other, but it’s not romantic love. It’s never been. But they work out together.

Other people don’t understand. So they’ve all decided to only tell the most important people in their life. Oliver’s kids don’t… They’re happy for them, as much as they can. At first, they were scared Oliver would leave Micol hanging, but he’d sworn not to and he can never even imagine living without her. He can’t imagine not having Elio - and with that, Jean - in his life either. It took a long while to accept that he’s polyamorous. That this is who he is and that he can suppress it all he wants, but never change it. His loved ones and a specialized therapist have sure helped him deal with it. 

He laughs, walking up to the men and gives them the drinks they’d asked for. Elio drags him in for a chaste kiss.  
“Thanks, Elio,” Elio grins. Oliver rolls his eyes and replies.  
“No problem, Oliver.”

Now that is something only they will ever understand.

\- Fin


End file.
